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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25135861">While Living Alternate Lives</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/oftennot/pseuds/oftennot'>oftennot</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>How Jester and Caleb Fell In Love [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Critical Role (Web Series)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Pirates of the Caribbean Fusion, F/M, Widojest Week, Widojest Week 2020</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 10:55:59</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>504</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25135861</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/oftennot/pseuds/oftennot</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>“Bren, how many times must I ask you to call me Jester?" </p><p>"At least once more, Miss Lavorre.”</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Jester Lavorre/Caleb Widogast</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>How Jester and Caleb Fell In Love [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1816963</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>42</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Widojest Week 2020</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>While Living Alternate Lives</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Widojest Week 2020</p><p>Day Three: Alternate Universe </p><p>Taken from the iconic scene in Pirates of the Caribbean: Curse of the Black Pearl by Dir. Gore Verbinski (2003)</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Her smile lights up the whole room, and when he blinks the image of her rosy cheeks and bright eyes are burned onto his lids. </p><p>“Bren, it’s so good to see you. I had a dream about you last night." </p><p>He swallows. "About me?" </p><p>"About the day we met. Do you remember?” She cocks her head slightly, her eyes never leaving his, keeping him pinned to the spot. He feels his breath stutter. It’s incredibly rude of him to be so familiar with her like this, but he couldn’t bear the thought of being cold and aloof with Jester. It would make her sad. </p><p>“How could I forget, Miss Lavorre?” His voice is light, wobbling, fluttering like his heart in his chest. Bren is reminded why he tries to put some distance between them. Jester has a way of making him forget himself, forget his place, and hope for something—more.</p><p>Jester raises an eyebrow, her smile sharpening into a smirk. “Bren, how many times must I ask you to call me Jester?" </p><p>"At least once more, Miss Lavorre.” He allows himself to smile back at her, to indulge her. A hint of what they used to have. “As always." </p><p>He hoped the playful response would make her happy, but instead her smile falls and her previously bright expression fades into disappointment.</p><p>Babenon slides up behind them, his face unreadable. He sizes up his apprentice, before turning to his daughter. "You see, at least this boy has a sense of propriety.” Jester huffs and rolls her eyes, as stubborn as she always is with her father. Babenon sighs but continues on, used to this kind of reaction to his teachings. “Now, we really must be going." </p><p>"Good day, Mr. Ermendrud,” Her voice is polite, each word enunciated perfectly. Cold and proper and a far cry from the warmth and familiarity with which she spoke to him seconds before. Despite the not few inches of height Bren has on her, years of schooling from her governess have taught Jester how to hold herself as a lady of her station should, and when she inclines her head just so, it has the same effect as if she were looking down at him—which she should be. It is her right. </p><p>And yet. </p><p>She gathers her skirts in fisted hands, gliding out of the entryway. Bren feels the familiar weight of regret sinking deep into his stomach. His feet move without him thinking, following slowly behind her, watching her get farther and farther from him as she has many times before. Babenon holds a hand out to Jester as the chauffeur opens the door to the awaiting carriage, helping her into the vehicle. </p><p>“Good day,” Bren whispers, “Jester.”</p><p>The door slams shut and the sound of horse hooves pounding against rocks and dirt drown out his voice. Jester turns back to him, as if she heard him. Her eyes hold him until their gaze is broken as the carriage turns the bend, and then she is gone. </p>
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